Fat Girl Jeans {or the quest to feel skinny}

I already know what you are going to say.  You are going to tell me to stuff it because you've seen me on Instagram and know for a fact that I don't own a pair of fat girl jeans.  You're going to tell me I'm perfect just the way that I am.  You are going to say I look great.
And you are probably right... Except I don't feel that way.
About two years ago I lost a ton of weight.  Let's say for blogging purposes, 15 pounds.  I looked sick, because I was.  My body was in rebellion.  It rebelled against the food I was eating, the caffeine I was drinking, and the amount of stress I was putting on it.  My body rebelled so well, that I had to dramatically change my life last February.  Insert the Diet of Death, take out all the things that most people live for, (caffeine, sugar, dairy, and grain) and be witness to my transformation.  I was happy, I was healthy, and for the first time in my life my body was in balance with the rest of my life.
That brings me to today.  Today, I wore fat girl jeans.  The jeans I've had for 6 years.  The "after Caitlin" jeans.  They are not a double digit size.  They are just not the size I have been wearing for the last two years.  In fact, they have been way too big for the last two years.  Until I put them on today.  Today, they fit, in the comfortable way I remember.  The way that they hang, and say, look at you, your pants are a little big.  For lack of a better reason, I wore them because they made me feel skinny.
I'm a hypocrite and a liar.  I'm just going to tell you that.   Most of the time I live the "practically paleo" life style.  Most of the time I love my body, how I look, the clothes I wear.  I'm a firm believer in accepting your body and what it is capable of.  Lately, I'm a big fat liar.  Recently I've been letting Jillian Michaels kick my ass at least 4 days a week.  I've been killing myself at work and at home, and guess what I have concluded.  One, I hate it immensely.  And two, my body is in rebellion again.  Even my diet can't save me this time.  I'm bloated, I'm in tummy pain, and I've got acne like a teenager.  I keep asking if this is what over the hill feels like.  I did turn 35.  Is there a switch in the body that at 35, the fat sticks to your hips at a faster rate?  Just asking.  I mean I get it, but you'd think the girl who eats no bread, no milk, or no cheese, wouldn't have "love handles".  Which is a direct quote from my grandma...
The hard part is that Jillian's crazy actually works.  I have biceps.  My tummy is getting a little leaner.  But sadly I'm not feeling any better.  I'm exhausted.  I'm in pain (stomach pain even though I'm sticking to my diet like a boss).  I'm in a horrible, crap, bitch face mood that makes me a gem to live with.
So today I rocked my fat girl jeans.  Because I needed a little boost.  I needed a little room to breathe.  To take the edge off.  I have my skinny girl jeans waiting for me.  For when I'm better rested.  For when I can actually keep up the the Devil herself (Jillian).  I'm saving those skinny girl jeans for when I'm back to feeling like myself.  When work isn't kicking my ass.  When the kids aren't kicking my ass.  When I'm not kicking my own ass.  I'll save those skinny jeans for a day where I can look a pint of coconut milk ice cream in the face and not feel like an epic failure.
Until then, I'm going to hang out in my fat girl jeans. They get me. They understand me. They remember me.